


Discovery

by OldWomanJosie



Series: The Saga of the Mary Sues [2]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-23
Updated: 2014-10-23
Packaged: 2018-02-22 07:38:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 11,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2499869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OldWomanJosie/pseuds/OldWomanJosie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A sequel to Broken, but it is not required that you read Broken first. The tale of Rosegold's sons. Deliberately about as bad as I could make it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_I set down here the intertwining tales of four individuals. The first, a child of hate and evil. The second, a child of a twisted, yet sincere, love. The third, a daughter of deceit and pride. The last was one who had endured years of cruel slavery. These four met in a way that was more than fate and more than chance. Their tale ends in grief, but with a strong bond that few will ever match. Thus I begin the account._

The man grunted as the Warg swiped a paw at his face. Blood flew from the place where the wolf's claws tore his skin. The dark-haired man twirled his iron staff in his long fingers and shouted, "Daro!"

The wolf froze in place, its eyes rolling toward its enemy with a hate-ladened glare. But that man gave no quarter. Standing over the Warg's potential prey, a shivering halfling woman, the man leaned in and stared the wolf down unflinchingly. "Gurth," he whispered softly. The Warg's eyes widened and it whimpered piteously. The man's lips curled into a sneer. "Gurth!" he screamed.

The animal went rigid. It choked, coughed, then fell with a thud. The man turned to the halfling then. "Get up," he commanded harshly. She climbed to her feet, still shaken by what had occurred. Her rescuer stood waiting. "Well?" he asked finally. "Aren't you going to tell me why you're here, and why I had to save you from getting ingested by a Warg?"

She shrugged. "My name is Briar Rose. I am a loner, and only stumbled onto the wolf by unhappy chance. I thank you for saving me." She turned to go, but was halted by the man's low voice.

"You lie. Tell me all of your tale or I will pull it out of you by force."

Briar Rose turned. "Why do you doubt my story? I say truly, I am a wanderer in these parts."

The man put his hands on his staff and took a step toward her. "Tell me," he demanded.

She started to shake her head, but suddenly he was on her, knocking her to the ground and placing the head of his staff at her throat.

"Tell me."

The woman gave a jerky nod. "Alright," she said in a voice hoarse from speaking the language of the Wargs. The man released her and Briar Rose sat up, rubbing at her throat unconsciously. Then she began her tale, forever shooting wary glances at her 'rescuer'.


	2. Chapter 2

"My name in the Shire was Rose Longfurrow, but now I go as Briar Rose. I was born to Burnock and Lily Longfurrow, simple hobbits of Hobbiton in the Shire. I spent the first years of my life as a carefree child.

"Back then, I was madly in love with Frodo Baggins, the young heir of Old Mr. Bilbo. I was 18 when he fled for Crickhollow with Sam Gamgee, Pippin Took, and Merry Brandybuck. I, blind to the evil pursuing him, followed.

"I followed them carefully and quietly all the way to Bree. There I would have revealed myself, but they met up with one of the Big Folk and so I thought it best to remain unseen for a time.

"I tracked them all the way to Weathertop and beyond the Valley of the Elves. There I could not gain entry, so I waited, ever watchful, outside the gates.

"Eventually Frodo came out, followed by a company of eight. Still oblivious to anything but my mad desire for the young Baggins, I followed them all the way up to Caradhras, the Red Horn.

"While traveling over, I became lost and was separated from the trail of the fellowship. I was freezing and starving and just beginning to think that perhaps I should just return to the Shire when the Wargs found me.

"The small band were battered and bad-tempered, obviously having just been defeated in some skirmish. They penned me in and would have fallen on me at once, but one of the larger ones spoke rapidly to the others and halted them all.

"I didn't know what was said, but apparently a decision was made, for I was carried by the Wargs swiftly over the mountains and into Nan Curunir, where we now stand.

"Saruman was intensely interested in my being a hobbit and wrung out of me every bit of information he could about Frodo, the company with him, and a Ring. When he saw that I knew little about these matters, he decided to keep me, for bargaining with later. For the time being, I was given to the Wargs. By order of Saruman, they could do with me what they willed, as long as I was not severely wounded or killed."

Here the hobbit drew her knees to her chest, fighting sobs of pain. "Saruman branded my shoulder with the shape of a Warg's paw. I was enslaved to the Wargs, kept in the caves of Isengard. For five years they kept me, cowed by the power of Sharkey and his orders. But I never saw the White Wizard again. I learned later that a year or so after I was taken, the White Wizard was killed. But the Wargs did not know this, and did not have the wit to discover it. So they kept me in bondage still.

"After a time, when Saruman did not come, they began to wonder if he had forgotten me. A messenger was sent to Orthanc to inquire about this and I knew my time had come. In the night I escaped the caverns of the Wargs.

"I traveled back to the Shire, hoping to find my family. But the Shire was changed, as I was. No one recognized me, what with my scars and my missing eye." She touched the Warg-hide patch that covered where her left eye should be. "No one wanted me there. So I left there, in tears over my fate.

"Then I went east, unknowing, into Mordor. What happened there I...I will not say." She trembled and red blood beaded on her lip where she bit it in her anguish.

"I was finally able to escape the darkness of the Black Land. I decided to return here, to the Ring of Isengard, to see what news of the world I could find and to consider my next road. To the cities of men I would not go, men have ever been a proud race and not easily will they stoop to the level of hobbit eyes. Nor would I go to the Elves, for they are fading and their fair race is vanishing from the earth. The Dwarves, too, are withdrawing into their vast cities under the earth. My own people reject me. So what can I do? I came here to find the answer.

"One of my former masters found me, and would have devoured me if not for you. So that is my tale. In it's entirety. And who are you? Pardon me for asking, if it seems rude. Oh, you're bleeding!"

The man, who had by now seated himself and was leaning against the Warg's body, lifted a hand to his face. It came away red with blood from the place the wolf had slashed at him. Swiftly he placed his hand back over the wound and murmured a few words. When he removed his hand, only a red line was left on his skin. Briar Rose gasped.

"You are a wizard! My lord!"

The man nodded slightly. "Aye, a wizard, born and bred. I am the son of Saruman the White. If he was your master, then mastery of you passes to me with his death. Thus I do not have to tell you of myself. But my name is Angrenbor, and I travel to the kingdom of Angmar to continue the work of my father."

Briar Rose sighed. "It's true, sir, that I should now belong to you. I will follow you then, wherever you may go. I will come, for there is nothing left for me to do and no other choice is given me."

So the two left Isengard. Together they traveled, master and slave, over the Misty Mountains, heading to Angmar, and the ancient evil that lay therein. At first Angrenbor simply coexisted with Briar Rose. But as time drew on, he made the most of his role of master until Briar Rose was terrified of him.


	3. Chapter 3

After an uneventful fortnight of traveling together, the two came to a small glade. They had strayed from their course over the Misty Mountains and closer to the eastern edge, toward the forest of Lothlorien. Angrenbor didn't want to get too close to the elf-haven, but the climate in the mountains was beginning to affect Briar Rose. So, for a reason he himself was not even sure of, the wizard led her nearer to the forests.

When they entered the clearing, Angrenbor stopped to survey the green sward. A perfect place to camp for the night. The hobbit woman beside him also stopped and ventured, "Sir, I would not stay in this place. It has a feel of evil in it."

Angrenbor struck her in the face, sending her to the ground. "You will stay in this place if I command it. Or will you defy me?" He tightened his grip on his staff, green eyes glowing dangerously.

Briar Rose shrank away from him. "No, no sir." She got to her feet, brushing away blood from her split lip.

Angrenbor put a hand on her shoulder. "Come on then. Let's make camp."

Together they pitched their camp. No, Angrenbor did not sit back and make Briar Rose work alone. Despite his cruelty to her, the wizard was not used to having everything done for him and helped her with most things that had to be done.

It was drawing on to sunset when they finished. Angrenbor lay sprawled out beside their small fire while Briar Rose slowly and carefully roasted a young deer her master had brought down.

The wizard lay on his back, smoking his pipe and staring up at the setting sun and fast appearing stars. His feet were turned toward the flames. Neither he nor Briar Rose said a word to each other.

Suddenly Angrenbor sat up, listening intently. Then Briar Rose heard it too: faint singing that was growing stronger by the second. Soon the singers were in sight; a troupe of about ten men in tattered minstrel garb. They approached the fire and formed a small semi-circle around it. Their song ended and the men stood silently, waiting.

Angrenbor got slowly to his feet. "Who are you? And what do you want here?" He groped for his staff and clenched it in white-knuckled hands. "Speak now!" he commanded.

The leader of the minstrels, a ruddy-faced man with graying hair and green-gray eyes, looked stunned at Angrenbor's hostility. "My lord! We are but traveling players, wandering hither and yon for the purpose of lightening hearts that are otherwise steeped in the darkness of this age."

Briar Rose stood, edging closer to her master. "Angrenbor," she whispered urgently, "do not trust them. We must away from this place quickly. These men mean us harm, I am sure of it."

The wizard scowled at her and swept her aside with his staff. "Silence," he hissed. "Your words are ever filled with talk of evil and malice in the world. Can you not for a moment open your eyes and trust?"

The leading minstrel nodded sagely. "Aye, we are only simple travelers. Let us play for you, young master, to soothe your heart and that of your suspicious maid servant."

But Angrenbor was still slightly wary. "At what price do you play?"

A strange smile came over the leader's face and a red light flickered in his eyes. "Food," he said softly. "Food is all we require of you for our skill."

Angrenbor began to relax. "Well, then, certainly we will hear you. There is food here for all." The wizard sat down again, pulling Briar Rose to his side. "Now watch," he growled, "watch your fears come to naught."

The hobbit sat sullenly by her master's side. She knew full well that the young deer she'd been roasting was not enough for twelve people and was aware that she would go hungry this night. But another thing weighed on her mind more heavily than the matter of food. She knew without doubt that these 'traveling players' were up to no good. She could feel it in the air, see it in their faces, and hear it in their words.

The minstrels began a song in the elven tongue, a song of love and sadness. Briar Rose waited until she was sure that Angrenbor was completely entranced. Then she fled into the brush.

Angrenbor took no notice of her. He listened, enraptured, to the haunting music of the travelers. As the meat burned and the fire died the young wizard sat unmoving.

As the moon rose into the night sky, the minstrels struck up a lively tune. Angrenbor smiled; this was the first song of this sort that the men had played all evening. He tapped his foot in time to the beat, and even picked up a small stick, tapping it against his leg in rhythm.

Then something made him look down at the stick into his hand. With shock he saw that in his hand was no mere stick, but a human finger bone, streaked black with dried blood. Crying out in disgust, Angrenbor flung the bone from him.

Now the young wizard's eyes were opened and he beheld the men before him as they truly were: skeletal wraiths whose hollow eyes were fixed upon him with hungry stares. The glade's floor was littered with bones new and old. The music of the wraiths, instead of life and joy, now held death and evil in their ringing tones.

The players began to advance on Angrenbor, leering at him as the wizard screamed in fear, all words of power forgotten. Hiding nearby, Briar Rose covered her ears and put her head between her knees, willing it to be over.

Just when the wraiths began to lay hands on the man, every one of them froze, listening. Angrenbor heard it too; a faint, clear voice, ringing through the trees. It grew stronger and soon the words it sang were discernable:

_A! Elbereth Gilthoniel!_

_silivren penna miriel_

_o menel aglar elenath,_

_Gilthoniel, A! Elbereth_

A figure entered the clearing, his face alight. He lifted his left hand and spoke a single word that Angrenbor could not understand. The grasping hands fell from Angrenbor and their owners' shrieks echoed in the night.

The leader only was unafraid, coming to stand nose to nose with the newcomer. "Begone, fiend of the Lady. This is our land. She decreed it so!"

Angrenbor beat the fair stranger to the reply. "Begone yourself! Your spells have no more power here." He then began to chant in Sindarin, voice waxing stronger and stronger while the ring on his hand flared with light. He seemed to grow taller and darker, fairer and also more fell than he'd ever been. This proved too much for the wraith leader and he fled into the dark after his band. As they vanished, the light from Angrenbor and the stranger faded until the only light came from the moon and stars.

The newcomer said, "We are not safe here. Follow me, quickly." Without waiting for an answer, he turned and bounded off. Angrenbor followed, a bit too stunned to object.


	4. Chapter 4

He was led to another clearing close by and bidden to sit while his strange host kindled a fire. When it was set, they sat in silence, regarding one another with guarded curiosity.

Angrenbor observed his rescuer. He had the look of one of the Rohirrim, the Horse-lords, but the wizard had seen the points on the other's ears. An elf. Or half-elf, at least. He was not very tall, but it was obvious that he was rather young (at least to the reckoning of the Elves). His fair hair fell like a golden river to the small of his back and his gray eyes were sharp and clear. He wore a ring on his left ring finger. It was silver and set with a small topaz, which was surrounded by twelve tiny diamonds (or holes where diamonds should go. Five were missing.)

There were, however, several oddities about this elf. For one thing, he wore steel-rimmed, thick-lensed glasses that he constantly pushed up onto his nose. Another strange thing was his nose in general. It was long, hooked, and crooked, as if broken and not set properly. All these things gave Angrenbor pause. He was not too sure what to make of this weird elf.

This 'weird elf' was returning Angrenbor's scrutiny. What he saw intrigued him. This man didn't look particularly threatening, but there was something about him that made the elf think twice about turning his back on the other. The man couldn't have been very old, but his raven-dark hair was already shot with silver and his crystal green eyes spoke of age far beyond years. He wore travel-stained gray robes and carried a staff of iron. At the head of the staff was set a small silver bowl and in the bowl, the elf could see, lay an orb of green glass that swirled with many subtle colors. Thin bars of iron arched over the globe and caged it within the bowl. He also bore a bright, unadorned ring on the last finger of his right hand. Very strange.

The elf began to speak. "Many years ago, a band of Dunland men settled in yonder glade. They hoped to gain the favor of Lady Galadriel and be permitted to live within the bounds of Lothlorien.

"But in trying to please her, they incurred her wrath. So the Lady barred them from Lorien forever. Many think that this was too harsh, but the Lady of the Wood is not easily aroused to anger, nor is she easily appeased.

"The men were angered, and sought to avenge their wounded pride. They sought out the Galadrim and murdered all they could find, as well as all elves and elf-friends. This was too great an offense, and added to Galadriel's curse came the Lord Celeborn's: binding the Dunlanders to their glade that they may never leave. All men and elves avoided that place and were safe.

"But that with that curse came certain side-affects. When the men finally died, they remained in the wood as wraiths, trapped forever. If anyone is so foolish-" and here he glared pointedly at Angrenbor "-as to enter their home, they are enchanted by the wraith's music and when they are ensnared, the men feed on their living souls."

Angrenbor gulped, realizing just how close he had come to dying back there. "I see. Thank you for rescuing me. I did not know this tale and was ignorant of the...ramifications of staying in that place."

Briar Rose chose that moment to appear from the bushes behind the elf. "You were warned," she said quietly. The elf spun around, leaping to his feet as Angrenbor snarled, "Briar Rose!"

The hobbit, seeing that she had spoken a bit too boldly, stepped back in fear. "Lord, I-I-"

"You ran. You deliberately disobeyed my orders and fled like the coward that you are!" He knocked her to the ground and began to beat her, his staff viciously striking her back and shoulders as the halfling curled soundlessly into a ball.

Then suddenly the elf was there, standing over the hobbit and gripping Angrenbor's staff with both hands trying to wrest it from him. "What are you doing? Have you gone mad?"

Briar Rose dashed from beneath the two as they faced off. Angrenbor huffily jerked his staff from the elf's grasp. "It's none of your business how I treat my property, so step aside!" The wizard's eyes glinted dangerously at this, but the elf was oblivious.

"Your property? Look, in this part of the world, no person is anyone else's property. Especially not a woman."

That reined in Angrenbor's wrath. "What else are women for, if not for work and pleasure?"

Pushing up his glasses with one finger, the elf considered this. "Women are for cherishing, for preserving, for loving. They represent all that is light and beautiful in the world. They are indeed stronger than we think and they do indeed serve as pleasurable company, but these are no reasons to treat them as if they are lower than ourselves."

Angrenbor sat down with a thump, causing Briar Rose to flinch and scoot just a little further away from him.

"Who are you, to know these things?" the wizard asked dully. "Answer carefully, for in saying these things you revoke years of teaching."

The elf sat down slowly. "I am...the son of the Lord of Imladris. Yaonorme is my name. I have lived all my life among the elves, but I have also seen many things in many places. I speak truly: only those in the dark places of the earth treat women as you do."

Angrenbor smirked. "I was born in the dark places of the earth, and in them I was raised."

Yaonorme leaned forward attentively. "Tell me."

So Angrenbor told his tale, and this is how it ran:


	5. Chapter 5

"I, Angrenbor Curunirion, was born in Isengard. My father was a hard man, and unkind. Not even to his own son." Angrenbor's face turned first wistful, then hard as he remembered the beatings he had received at Saruman's hands. "But he made use of me and tutored me in the use of my innate power."

"But there was another that Sharkey tormented more than I. He kept an elf-girl as a slave and he hated her with a vengeance. She, naturally, returned his hate doubly. I knew because I saw the fierce looks she gave him when his back was turned and she thought I wasn't nearby. I'm sorry to say that she felt the same way toward me, as I was as cruel to her as my father was.

"The day Sharkey died, she disappeared. She came flying down the stairs and I tried to get her to talk to me, but she fell. When I got to the bottom of the steps, she was gone and the doors of Orthanc were barred. To this day I have no idea where she is or where she went. It is a great mystery to me.

"After that I was trapped alone in Orthanc. I stayed there for years, going through all of my father's things and learning what I could from them. In thirty-five years' time I tried to escape Orthanc at last. I had been kept locked in by the Ents, but now that I had grown stronger in power, I felt that I could make good an escape. And I have,

"I recently marked my hundredth year. Yet, I am still so young in so many ways. When I was young, my father never let me leave Orthanc or the Ring of Isengard. I watched him in his dealings with men, elves, and assorted other races. Thus, I know how to relate to men.

"But women are an entirely different matter. The only one I'd ever seen was my slave. I'd never known how to treat a woman, other than with scorn. But I realize that there is much that I do not know."

Yaonorme flipped his hair out of his eyes as he rooted through his pack for food. "So is that an apology to Briar Rose for the way you've acted?"

The wizard was on his feet in a heartbeat. "I do not owe her anything, and I need not follow your bidding in any case!"

The fair elf jammed his glasses back onto his nose and motioned for Angrenbor to sit back down. "Of course. I meant no offense."

Angrenbor sat down and arranged himself fussily as if his outburst had not occurred. Yaonorme tossed him some dried fruit and Angrimbor munched on it, staring thoughtfully down at the ring on his finger. Yaonorme spotted it and asked, "What sort of ring is that?"

Angrenbor swallowed and held it up. "Actually, it's the Two Ring."

Yaonorme coughed for a minute, then, trying very hard not to laugh, asked, "No relation to the One Ring, is it?"

The man looked sharply at him. "Not really. It was forged by my father to counter Sauron's One Ring. Obviously it failed, because this ring doesn't really do anything as far as I know."

Yaonorme, intrigued, held out a hand. "May I see it?"

"No!"

The vehemence of Angrenbor's reaction made both of his companions jump. The wizard cupped his left hand over his right, shielding the ring from all other eyes. "It is mine!"

Then it seemed that a shadow passed from his face and the dark-haired man sat stunned, staring at the ring on his hand. "I-I had thought that it had no control over me, but...I see now that it does. I am sorry."

Briar Rose giggled nervously and moved closer to Yaonorme. "Not a problem," she said quickly, ducking behind the elf.

Yaonorme's face was grave. "Angrenbor, that thing is evil. I would counsel you to be rid of it, though-"

Angrenbor swiftly covered the ring and snarled at Yaonorme. The elf raised his hands in a placating gesture.

"-Though I will not take it from you. You must be rid of it by your own will."

An awkward silence enveloped the clearing. The three sat staring at each other, unwilling to speak. Finally Briar Rose hesitantly broke the silence. "Yaonorme, will you tell us your tale?"


	6. Chapter 6

The blond elf stirred and nodded. "Yes, I think so.

"My name is Yaonorme Eruedraithon, and I am the son of Elladan, lord of Imladris.

"My mother was Rosegold Morgil, daughter of Elrond and sister to Elladan. But at the time of my conception, this was not known. By the time the relation was discovered, it was too late.

"My mother gave me the name Yaonorme, then left me and my father to ride out to war. She was a Ranger trained, not given to sitting idle. My father told me she went to battle the evil in the east. I understand her wanderlust." Angrenbor noted that though Yaonorme's words said he understood, his face told a different story.

"We heard, or at least my father heard, that my mother had perished in the land of Mordor. It was the merest rumor, but even that devastated Adar nin and he nearly lost all hope. He says that only his family and Iluvatar's grace saved his sanity and kept him here on the eastern shore. That is why he named me Eruedraithon: Eru is my salvation.

"As I am his only son, Adar nin can get...over-protective. I barely get to do anything by myself, always having to have someone with me just in case." He rolled his eyes. "Since Ada is the Lord of Rivendell, nothing escapes his notice, so I can never be alone for a single second without someone running after me to find out if I'm mortally wounded.

"This is how I am come to meet you, then. The Lords Glorfindel and Erestor are planning to sail for the Undying Lands any day now. Lord Glorfindel and I are rather close, so Ada gave me permission to travel with Lord Glorfindel on a last trip to Lorien. Lord Erestor stayed in the valley, bidding farewell to his beloved Imladris.

"You can likely guess the rest. I escaped Glorfindel in the woods of Lothlorien and struck out on my own. I hope to prove to Adar nin that I'm not so young as he thinks.

"But here's an interesting thing. My mother spent most of her life as a slave to Curunir in Isengard. Could it be that she was the same slave you knew, that she is your mother, and that somehow we are kin?"

To Yaonorme's shock, Angrenbor flushed a deep red. In a quiet voice the wizard said, "Yes. I have often suspected that she was my mother. Sharkey never told me who my mother was, and the girl herself hardly spoke, but I saw the way she looked at me...sometimes. But mostly I surmised that she was because of this." For the first time he pushed his hair away from his ears, revealing the slight points thereon. "I try to keep them covered. It's a bit humiliating to be known as a-" He swallowed, remembering his own father taunting him on that count. "-A half-breed."

Yaonorme's eyes danced. "Yes, I can see how that would be a problem, but Angrimbor, don't you see? This means we're brothers! It also means that Ada shouldn't worry, because it turns out I have a family member with me anyway," he added under his breath. The elf leaped to his feet and twirled in a circle until his glasses flew into Briar Rose's lap.

Angrenbor laughed at his newfound brother's excitement. Briar Rose, on the other hand, wasn't laughing. She handed the glasses back to the now stationary elf. "It's a good thing you two are kin," she commented, tentatively exercising her new right of free speech. When they turned to stare at her, she continued. "You are both far too trusting. Spilling your life's story to the first stranger you meet in the Wild. It could easily have led to your deaths. It's not hard to tell that this is the first excursion alone for both of you."

Angrenbor raised a hand, but Yaonorme swiftly intercepted the blow. "Angrenbor, listen to her. She's been around far longer than we have, and like it or not she knows more about traveling in the Wild than both of us put together."

Angrenbor stopped and tilted his head. "Wait. You have been around longer than we have. But... how? I know of your race, you're not that long-lived!"

Briar Rose sighed. The question was a red herring and she knew it, but it deserved an answer nonetheless. "I had hoped to keep it hidden, but..." She held out her right hand. Glinting on her middle finger was a simple gold ring set with many small diamonds. "I found it on the road to the Shire. I've worn it ever since. I call it Elglin. It apparently delays my aging."

Angrenbor's hand hovered over Briar Rose's. "What would happen," he asked softly, "if I were to take it?"

The hobbit curled her hand into a fist and drew it away from the wizard's questing fingers. "I would die," she said hoarsely. "I would die."

Yaonorme intervened again before anything else could happen. "I, too, bear a ring." He showed forth the ring Angrenbor had previously noted on his left hand. "It is called Beriohtarion. A messenger of the Valar gave it to my mother. It detects poisons. When the stone turns green, a known poison is present. It's the only thing I have of my mother's aside from her vague memory."


	7. Chapter 7

They talked long into the night and long after Briar Rose fell asleep. Around noon the next day all three set off together. Only then did it occur to Yaonorme to ask.

"Angrenbor?"

"Yes, brother of mine?" The wizard was in high spirits today, owing partly to his lack of sleep.

"Where _are_ we going, anyway?"

Briar Rose was taken suddenly by a coughing fit that sounded surprisingly like giggling. Angrenbor shot her a look, but he was smiling as well. "Angmar," he answered simply.

Yaonorme froze. "Angmar?"

Angrenbor stopped and turned to the thunderstruck elf. He nodded slowly. "Yes. Angmar. Northern realm, maybe you've heard of it?"

Yaonorme rolled his eyes and firmly pushed his glasses up on his nose. "Yes, I've heard of it. I meant, why on Arda are you going there?"

Angrimbor turned serious and Briar Rose watched him pensively as he answered. "I hope to establish myself there, and gather such forces under my banner that will enable me to continue my father's work."

"Why do you want to carry on the work of a man who mistreated you for so many years?" probed Briar Rose gently. Angrimbor scowled and aimed a blow at her, but Yaonorme caught his brother's hand as it fell.

"Answer her question, Angrenbor. It is a shrewd one."

The wizard snatched back his hand and clenched it into a fist. "I guess..." He let out a shaky breath. "I guess that, even though Sharkey is dead, I want to make him proud of me. I know that he'd tell me to continue if he could speak to me now."

Briar Rose slipped her hand into Angrenbor's. When he looked down at her, she said softly, "I know how it is to want to please someone, even though they hurt you." She brushed her scarred face with the fingertips of her other hand. "Hurt you a lot," she whispered.

Yaonorme put a hand on his brother's shoulder and looked into his green eyes. "Is there nothing I can say or do to sway you from this course?"

"Someone in this world should stand for my father," answered Angrenbor firmly.

Yaonorme whispered, "No one loved your father, Angrenbor. What he did was unforgivable. You don't have to be like him."

"Then why do I feel this way? Yaonorme, he was my father. He didn't love me, but he was still my father. I cannot let that go. I need you to understand that. Please," Angrenbor added quietly, searching the elf's gaze.

" my counsel would be…quit talking and start walking. It's a long way to Angmar and we won't get there by discussing it."

Angrenbor's face lit up. "You'll come with me then?" He looked at Briar Rose, then back at Yaonorme. "Both of you?"

Briar Rose nodded emphatically. "Of course we will. All the way."

The trio traveled together for a fortnight and by the grace of the Valar, no harm befell them. By day, Briar Rose taught them of caution and wisdom while traveling the world, Yaonorme taught them what he knew of woodcraft, and Angrenbor taught them what they could learn about magic. By night they slept soundly, but with care, never failing to stand watch over the camp.

It was a constant battle, though, for Yaonorme to keep Angrenbor and Briar Rose from falling back into their old ways as master and slave. There were also frequent and heated arguments about Angrenbor's unwavering resolution to continue his father's work in Angmar. Neither side of the argument ever swayed the other.


	8. Chapter 8

One day, as the three were coming into yet another conflict, Yaonorme heard something in the brush beside the road. Quietly he extricated himself from the conversation-cum-fight and went to investigate the sound.

Angrenbor and Briar Rose were soon startled out of their fight by the sudden appearance of Yaonorme, struggling to hold onto a woman. Just as they broke out of the bushes, the woman slipped Yaonorme's grasp and tried to run.

Thinking fast, Angrenbor shot out a hand and grabbed her wrist. The woman screamed and fought him, but the half-elf held her fast while his brother restrained her from behind.

"Who are you?" Angrenbor asked harshly, even as Yaonorme asked, "Why are you following us?"

The woman, whom they could now see was an elf, turned her fiery eyes first on Briar Rose, then Yaonorme, then settled them on Angrenbor. Finally she answered through clenched teeth. "I am Galenwen, daughter of Olorin. You cannot hold me like this!"

Angrenbor blinked and nearly lost his hold on her. "Well, since I am holding you like this, why don't you explain yourself?"

Galenwen sighed as Yaonorme laid his hands on her shoulders. "I think you should answer his questions, Galenwen. If that is your name."

They moved off the road and sat beside it under a beech tree. The elf reluctantly began her story.

"My mother's name is Limwen. Cousin of Melian, servant of Nessa. She wed Olorin early in the Second Age, and when Manwë sent him to Arda against his want, she begged Nessa to let her go over the Sea with her husband. Before crossing, he tried to make her remain behind, and used his newly aged appearance (he once was a handsome, sleek Maia) to persuade her. But she was loyal and went with him, with a child in her womb (he did not know this at the time). They crossed together, and stayed for a time in Mithlond.

"After a short while, Olorin bade Limwen to stay in Mithlond while he went out into the world. This irked Limwen, for she was ever a woman of strong will, but for the sake of her unborn child she agreed to stay behind. Or so he thought.

"Soon after Olorin departed, Limwen gave birth to a daughter, whom she named Galenwen. Then she rode out after her husband, leaving her infant in the care of the elves of Mithlond.

"But misfortune shadowed Limwen's steps on that journey. When she caught up to Olorin, he was in the middle of an Orc attack. He was handling himself well, but Limwen nonetheless joined the fray to aid him. Unfortunately, her presence confused more than strengthened her husband. Olorin and Limwen prevailed, but at a deadly price. Limwen was fatally wounded and died in the night despite Olorin's attempts to save her. He left for the Wilds then, assuming that his child was also dead. He never knew of Galenwen's exsistence.

"Galenwen was raised as the daughter of Círdan the Shipwright. She was never told of her true parentage, for Círdan was afraid of what the race of Men may do to one of the same race as Annatar, who was their downfall.

"Finally, at the end of the Third Age, as the ship bearing Olorin and his companions disappeared on the horizon, Círdan revealed to Galenwen her true heritage. Angered that it had been kept from her (but seeing reluctantly the logic in it), Galenwen left Mithlond to roam the world, to see what it was that tied her adoptive father and his kin to this mortal place.

"So that is how Galenwen comes to you, son of elves. I have traveled this earth for over seventy years of men, sometimes with others, but often alone, for I have no kin left here.

"I have been following the three of you for two days now. You interest me, and there is something not quite normal about all of you. If you will permit me, I would travel with you as a friend. Not as a captive," she added caustically, shaking off Angrenbor, who still loosely held her wrist.

The wizard ignored her comment. He ran a hand through his dark hair, muttering, "This is amazing."

"Truly," echoed Yaonorme, who sat beside Angrenbor.

The woman was puzzled. "What is amazing?"

"Aside from the fact that here is yet another person who told their entire life's story with minimal threatening on the part of the questioners?" Briar Rose winced as Yaonorme's elbow dug into her side as a response to her muttered question.

Angrenbor looked wearily at Galenwen. "If all that you say is true, and I believe that it is, then you and I are distantly related. I am the son of Curumo, another of the five Istar who sailed from Valinor. The fair one you see sitting beside me is my half-brother, Yaonorme Eruedraithon"

This statement produced silence, then a barrage of embraces, questions, and tales that once again lasted well into the night. Angrenbor, Briar Rose and Yaonorme all retold their stories (though Briar Rose grumbled about the folly of this) and the Two Ring, Elglin, and Beriohtarion were brought out and explained. In a lull of speech, Galenwen showed them a ring of her own.

"This ring is called Melaglar. My father, Círdan, gave it to me on my begetting day. It is no magic ring, and it has no real power. I can make it give light when I have need, but I alone can make it so."

She raised her left hand and the others leaned in to examine her ring. It was a slender circle of silver, latticed and crowned by a rose-pink pearl shaped into a small heart. Galenwen brought it to her lips and spoke a soft word. Instantly light flared from the ring, then faded as Galenwen again whispered to it.

"Impressive," commented Briar Rose. As Angrenbor and Galenwen turned back to discussing the pros and cons of having Maiar blood, the hobbit maid leaned over to Yaonorme and whispered, "Am I the only one here who is not related to anyone and finds this gathering singularly odd?" Yaonorme only laughed, the bell-like sound echoing off the road and surrounding trees.

The decision was unanimous that Galenwen be accepted into their traveling party. Briar Rose, however, had a thing or two to say about caution with personal information and they all sat dutifully through her lecture.

They traveled together as they had before, with Angrenbor taking time to instruct Galenwen in the use of her innate power. The arguments over Angrenbor's choice continued as well, but none of them ever considered leaving him, despite their disagreement.

Soon they began to pass the place where Yaonorme assured them the elf-haven of Rivendell was ensconced. They avoided this fair place at all costs, for there dwelt Elladan Elrondion, Lord of Imladris and father of Yaonorme Eruedraithon. If there was one person on the face of Arda who would stop their quest, it was he.


	9. Chapter 9

Elrohir rode the borders of Rivendell, leisurely watching the trees go by and listening to the birds sing in the trees. Today more than ever the elf longed to leave this place and sail for the peace of the western shore. But he would not leave his twin, and Elladan's heart was in Arda-Marred for the time being. It was issues such as the one that now weighed on his mind that turned Elrohir's heart to the west.

This issue was the disappearance of his nephew, Yaonorme Eruedraithon. Glorfindel had ridden into the valley three weeks ago, lamenting the disappearance of the youth. Ever since then, every one of the few remaining elves in Imladris had been searching for word of Yaonorme in every way they knew. But no sign of the boy had turned up.

Elrohir sighed sadly, then cried out in surprise as the gray gelding beneath him halted, prancing in place nervously. He patted the horse's neck soothingly and sat up straighter, looking around to see what could've startled his mount. Then he heard a voice hiss, "Keep down! It's my uncle!" Elrohir squinted into the undergrowth suspiciously.

"Yaonorme? Is that you?"

A snarl of frustration came from the brush and the golden-haired elf rose to his feet. "Hi Uncle 'Ro."

Elrohir, though relieved to find Yaonorme unharmed, kept a stern expression on his face. "Who are your friends?"

Yaonorme's eyes widened. "What others?"

Elrohir tapped his fingers impatiently. "Yaonorme, you've always been a bad liar. And the puppy eyes won't work. Come on."

Yaonorme sighed and waved his hand. "Come on. He got us."

Elrohir watched silently as a badly scarred hobbit woman stood. Her curly brown hair was filled with leaves and her one clear blue eye (the other was covered by a hide patch) darted from her feet to Yaonorme to Elrohir.

Yaonorme looked up at his uncle, but Elrohir just nodded. "Keep going." The boy sighed and rolled his eyes. Briar Rose reached down and tapped someone on the shoulder.

A tall elven woman with chocolate brown hair stood up. Her near-black eyes were filled with fire, and like the hobbit's they darted between the ground and the elves.

Yaonorme smiled at his uncle, but Elrohir wasn't fooled. "There's one more down there."

Finally, reluctantly, a man stood. His black hair was streaked with silver and he glared at Yaonorme with green eyes that blazed with anger.

"A fine mess, Yaonorme," the man said icily. "I thought you were going to lead us _around_ Rivendell, not into it."

"Angrenbor," the elf woman warned, but Yaonorme waved her off.

"It's alright, Galenwen, I'm no more happy than he is over this." Then he turned to face the one called Angrenbor. "Look, I'm sorry. My father doesn't normally order the patrols to ride this far. I didn't know!"

Angrenbor curled his lip. "You knew they'd be looking for you. You never wanted to come with me, you led us in here on purpose!"

"I never did! I didn't want to get caught anymore than you did! The whole point of ditching Glorfindel was to get out on my own. I meet up with you and look what happens! You're supposed to be a wizard!"

Briar Rose hissed. That was cold. Angrenbor's face paled noticeably. "You dare?" He raised his staff and looked as if he was about to floor Yaonorme, no matter who was watching.

Elrohir chose this moment to interrupt. "Ahem, _ditched_ Glorfindel? Come on, I'm taking all of you back to Imladris. You've all got some things to explain."

Elrohir led the way, frequently glancing over his shoulder to see if they were all still there. The four travelers never even thought of running off, as they were occupied instead with a whispered argument that continued until they arrived at the Last Homely House.

Upon arriving, Elrohir took them all straight to the Hall of Fire. He knew Elladan would be there, planning yet another scheme to find his son.

To his mild surprise, not only was Elladan there, but also Glorfindel, Erestor, Celeborn, and every other elf in Imladris. _The patrols must have just returned_ , Elrohir realized. The elves turned and stared as he led the four into the hall. The two groups regarded each other silently for a moment.

Then all of Angband broke loose and there was great rejoicing. The elves fell on Yaonorme and there were many tears, kisses, hugs, and questions being asked of Yaonorme and Elrohir. The others stood by to one side, watching in amazement at the sudden onslaught of people.

Every one of the elves expressed great joy and relief at Yaonorme being found alive. It was plain to see that he was the favorite of Imladris. Each elf embraced him warmly. Each elf, that is, except one. When Yaonorme approached him, Melpomaen slapped the youth. Hard.

Angrenbor and Briar Rose both flinched. The room went dead silent as the boy touched a hand to his cheek. Red marks were beginning to form where the elder's hand had connected. Elladan started forward, eyes hard and lips ready with a command. But Yaonorme stopped him with an upraised hand.

"It's alright, Ada. Melpomaen has only given me what I deserve for causing so much worry."

Elladan's grim look dissolved, though he still shot Melpomaen a dark glance. "Well, that's certainly true enough. But here, who are the others Elrohir has brought to us?"

Yaonorme turned to his waiting companions. "Ada, these are my friends." The blond elf raised his eyebrows at the three, as if to say, _Well? Introduce yourselves!_

Angrenbor hung back and Briar Rose looked down shyly. After a moment Galenwen stepped forward.

"Lords, my name is Galenwen of Mithlond, daughter of..." she paused briefly, glancing at Briar Rose. "Daughter of Círdan Shipwright."

Briar Rose nodded slightly at her as the elves began murmuring in surprise at her claim. Briar Rose, encouraged by Galenwen's boldness but wavering under the proud elven eyes, answered next.

"I am Briar Rose Longfurrow, formerly of the Shire." She said no more than was necessary, but even this was enough to set off another round of murmurs. They quieted again when Angrenbor spoke.

"My name is Angrenbor. I am a wanderer in these lands."

Silence reigned. At last Elladan took a step toward Angrenbor, thrusting an accusing finger at him. "You do not tell all." Turning away, he snapped, "Seize him, he is the son of Saruman the Traitor!"

As Glorfindel and Elrohir at once laid hands on the wizard, Yaonorme stared in horror at his father.

"Ada, no! He's my friend! I saved his life, and with good reason!"

Elrohir muttered, "You didn't sound much like friends on the way here."

Yaonorme glared at his uncle. "He is my brother. A son does not choose his father, you cannot arrest him simply for who he is."

Elladan laid a hand on his son's shoulder. "Yaonorme. You are young, and cannot fully understand the world's ways or the evil that therein lies. This is the man who beat your mother, son of the man who ravaged Arda in his greed for power. I can take no chances with him."

In the background, Melpomaen wrenched Angrenbor's staff from his hands. The wizard shouted, "Lord Elladan! I mean you no harm!"

Elladan strode over and snatched up Angrenbor's right hand. "Then how is it that I find this upon your hand? You wear the very symbol of your father's evil after swearing that you are not as traitorous as he. How can I believe that you mean not to decimate Rivendell and possibly all of Arda as your father once tried to do?"

Yaonorme came between his father and his brother. "Ada, I will vouch for him." The boy turned the full power of his pleading eyes on his father. "Please," he whispered.

Elladan looked down at his son sadly. "Yaonorme, I have to do this. It's for the good of everyone." Then, turning to Glorfindel and Elrohir, he snapped, "Take him away."

Yaonorme's eyes blazed. "I call for a trial!"

Elladan put a hand on his son's arm. "Yaonorme-"

"I call for a Council!"

Ainar spoke then. "Elladan," the silver-haired lord said softly. "The boy's request is a just one. It cannot be denied."

Elladan groaned and Yaonorme smiled in triumph. "Very well," the Lord of Imladris said in defeat. "We will hold trial for the son of Saruman. But this does not change my opinion or my judgment of him!"


	10. Chapter 10

It was a silent seventeen that gathered in the council chamber. Elladan sat at the head of the half-circle, Elrohir at his right hand. In addition to the thirteen elves, Galenwen and Briar Rose were in attendance. Also present was Eldarion, son of King Elessar of Gondor. He'd come to visit his uncles and cousin for a few weeks and had been rather shocked to find the uproar about Yaonorme.

The generally somber attitude of the gathering was made even more morose by the mood of Yaonorme. He slouched sullenly in his seat, arms akimbo and eyes downcast.

The last person in the semi-circle was Angrenbor, flanked by Glorfindel and Ainar. The slender but strong chains of Imladris bound him and he stared daggers at Yaonorme, who pointedly looked anywhere but at his half-brother.

Elladan called the meeting to order. "We are gathered here to determine the fate of the son of Saruman, per the request of my son." Here the elf lord shot a baleful glance at Yaonorme. "We also must discuss the fate of the evil that he bears. Glorfindel, show us the ring."

Angrenbor gritted his teeth in anger as the Two Ring was forced from his curled fingers and placed before the group.

"Now tell us, Yaonorme, how you came to meet-"

Yaonorme finished his father's sentence acidly. "My brother? Your stepson? Very well." So he told the story of losing Glorfindel in Lorien, then of his meeting and traveling with Angrenbor, Briar Rose and Galenwen. When his tale was told, the others told theirs in full. Elladan sat quietly through it all, only periodically leaning over to whisper something to Elrohir.

When all tales were finally told, the Lord of Imladris sat silently for a while. Erestor spoke into the quiet.

"I see no reason why Angrimbor should not be treated as a guest, aside from the matter of the Ring. Which is easily remedied. Unmake the Ring."

Celeborn rubbed the bridge of his nose, sighing. "Didn't we already do all this? Was not the One Ring unmade?"

Angrenbor nodded. "Aye, it was. But before it was destroyed, my father forged a ring of his own. True, he did not have the power to make a Ring such as the One. But he could do his best to make one to rival it. He failed in that, but it is still quite powerful."

"And dangerous," added Eldarion. "It must be destroyed."

"How?" asked Briar Rose. She shrank back into her seat nervously as all eyes turned on her, but continued. "Is it as the One, only to be destroyed in the Mountain of Fire?"

Angrenbor answered again. He was being surprisingly cooperative in this matter. "No. Since it was not forged in Orodruin, I doubt that only there can it be unmade. But I do believe that no mere smith, not even an elven smith, can undo it completely."

Elladan blinked. "Very well. Since you seem to know the most about this ring, perhaps you can counsel us on how to unmake it."

Angrenbor set his jaw stubbornly. "No. My father left no clue as to how the ring was made."

He said no more, but even that was enough to touch off a flurry of shouts, accusations and protests that lasted for hours. At the end of three hours, every option had been presented and rehashed a thousand times. Nothing had been decided.

They adjourned for the noon meal. Everyone ate slowly, for no one looked forward to reconvening and starting the same weary arguments over again.

Upon returning to the council chamber, no one spoke for a moment. They all looked at each other with tired eyes, willing the dilemma to be over.

Then a new voice spoke. "There are many ways to destroy such a ring, as you have heard. But I can see only one sure way to unmake it. You must bind the Two Ring to an elven ring. The two forces, good and evil, cannot be bound in one object. It would destroy itself.

"But be wary. The one who binds these rings together in this way may not escape unharmed. Such a bonding may even prove fatal, but that I cannot see for certain."

Elladan raised an eyebrow. "Who is it that speaks so?"

A hooded figure drew forth from the shadows into the circle of the Council. The figure threw back its hood and a woman was revealed. She was an elven woman with long, fair hair and proud eyes. She was not overly beautiful, but awe-inspiring all the same.

Marcaunon sat forward, eyes wide. "It is one of the Valier, come to counsel us!"

The woman's moss-colored eyes flickered in amusement as she turned to face the elf. "Nay, I am no Valier. I am Erulissë, messenger of the Valar. How I came to be in your midst is none of your concern, Elrondion," she added, turning to look at Elladan, whose mouth was opening to ask that very question.

"What matters now is if you will heed my advice. For there are still those in this world who desire power above all and would do anything to get at the power in this ring."

Elladan nodded. "If you are certain of this, which I do not doubt, then our only problem is to find someone to bind the rings."

All sat without saying a word. Yaonorme and Galenwen fingered their rings and looked pensively at each other. Briar Rose looked down at Elglin, unmoving. Angrenbor's eyes flashed, then he said, "With your permission, Lord Elladan, I will bind the rings." Suspicious eyes turned on him as he continued.

"I have done many things in my life of which I am no longer proud. One is the abuse of my own mother-" Here the sons of Elrond flinched slightly and glared at the wizard with renewed distaste. "-And the one I regret not the least is bringing the Two Ring into this place of rest. Give me leave and an elven ring and I will remove both myself and my ring from your house."

Yaonorme leaped to his feet. "You will not do this alone." Rushing to his brother, the elf knelt beside him and placed Beriohtarion in Angrenbor's bound hands. "Take my ring, brother, and forgive my offense. Together we will destroy the Two Ring."

As one, every Imladris elf present was on their feet, shouting denial. Elladan strode over and grabbed the ring from Angrenbor's hands. "This was your mother's ring!" he cried angrily at his son. "I will not let you throw it and your life away over some foolish loyalty or on some silly whim!"

Erulissë beat the crushed Yaonorme to the reply. Her voice was terrible and it silenced all within hearing. "Elladan Elrondion! Your son is indeed young and can sometimes be foolish, but his intentions are noble and his heart is pure. How can you call his loyalty to his own brother foolish? Would you not risk your life to save Elrohir?" Her voice softened. "Let him do this. He does it from a good heart."

Elladan's face fell. "But..." He looked down at Yaonorme, whose face was the picture of defiance and pain. "Yaonorme, I'm sorry, but I just don't want to lose you. You are my only son."

Yaonorme's voice cracked as he said softly, "Ada, please, let me do this. I know I'm young, but I want to do this."

Elladan's eyes shone. He pulled his son into an embrace. "I cannot bear the thought of losing you," he whispered.

Erulissë placed her hand on the elf-lord's hair. "I will do what I can to protect them. Let him go."

Elladan did not speak, but the look in his eyes said all that was needed. He released his son and Yaonorme looked up at his father with grateful eyes. "Thank you."

It was not long before the hushed company assembled at the forges of Imladris. They waited in silence for the bonding of the rings. No one expected Yaonorme and Angrenbor to survive, despite Erulissë's assurances of her limited protection. They said their goodbyes as the rings, which had been heating, were brought to the anvil.

Beriohtarion and the Two Ring sat just inches apart, glimmering with heat and starlight. Angrenbor hefted a hammer and Yaonorme grasped the haft as well. The brothers looked nervously at each other.

Angrenbor smiled tightly, trying to calm his groundless (or nearly groundless) fears. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

Yaonorme returned his older brother's smile. "Yes," he answered simply.

Without another word they lifted the hammer. Lhachwen laid the two rings together so that they overlapped each other, then moved back to a safe distance. Erulissë placed her long-fingered hands on Yaonorme and Angrenbor's heads. "Valar protect us," the two heard her whisper. Then the hammer fell and they knew nothing more.


	11. Chapter 11

Angrenbor's eyes flew open. _I'm alive!_ was his first thought. The second was _Where is everyone?_ He lay on a bed, covered in a white sheet, totally alone.

The wizard swung his legs over the side of the low bed and padded out of the room, ignoring the muscles shrieking in protest at his movements.

Then his memories of his last conscious moments rushed back and he froze. "Yaonorme!"

His shout brought Tûrwethiel running from one of the other rooms down the hall. Angrenbor met the elf halfway.

"Are you alright?" Tûrwethiel asked.

"I think so," Angrenbor said brusquely. "Where is Yaonorme?"

Tûrwethiel didn't answer immediately. "You were pretty badly burned, but you weren't the worst. Yaonorme shoved you away from the main force of the explosion that resulted from the binding of the rings. Erulissë's disappeared, we don't know where she's gone."

Angrenbor started moving toward the door from which Tûrwethiel had come. "Where is he?"

The woman restrained the man with a hand on his arm. "Angrenbor, Yaonorme took most of the force of the blast. He's pretty bad off. We're not sure if-"

But Angrenbor wasn't listening. He tore his arm from Tûrwethiel's grasp and bolted for the door that she had appeared from. The room beyond held what he sought. The entire, though small, population of Rivendell was crowded into the healing room. They watched anxiously as Melpomaen and Elladan ran their hands over the body of Yaonorme, who lay comatose on the bed. Angrenbor stared in horror at his younger brother, amazed that he was still alive.

Yaonorme's fair face and body were covered in second and third degree burns. Blood glistened fresh on hundreds of gashes, large and small. The most prominent was on his forehead. It was bound with a blood-soaked bandage. Along with the other wounds, there were several bruises, the largest on his chest. Melpomaen's healing hands lay there, and the elf was murmuring softly, lost in concentration. Elladan sat back on his heels, wiping his forearm across his brow as Elrohir took his place.

Angrenbor, shocked into silence, finally managed a strangled sob. As one, every eye in the room turned to him. Angrenbor's gaze met Elladan's and they stared at one another for long, tense seconds. Then the elf lord got up and stalked over to the doorway, face hard and fists clenching convulsively. He faced off with the distraught wizard.

"Why have you come here? Haven't you done enough?"

Angrenbor did not answer. He tried to push past the elf. "Let me help him, please!"

Elladan stood resolutely in his way. "Valar help you if you ever touch him again!"

Galenwen rose and hurried to Angrenbor's side. "Lord Elladan, Angrenbor can heal through his power as a half-Maia. Please, for Yaonorme's sake, let him help!"

For a moment Elladan wavered. Galenwen's tear-filled eyes pleaded with him and he turned slightly to gaze at his deathly injured son. Then his eyes grew cold and he swore, "I will never let you near my son again. He is nearing the Halls of Mandos because of you!"

Erestor laid a hand on Elladan's arm. "Elrondion, this is madness! Let him help your son."

"No." Elladan turned away, mouth set in a grim line. "He will never again come near my son. He is a murderer," he added softly, sinking to his knees beside Yaonorme's bed.

Angrenbor bit his lip, anger, grief, and fear warring in his eyes. Then he whispered, "I'm so sorry. Truly I am. Goheno nin."

"Gwanno ereb nin!" groaned Elladan brokenly. Elrohir put his arm around his brother and held him as the father wept for his son.

Angrenbor turned and fled the room. After shooting a condemning glare at Elladan, Galenwen followed him, Briar Rose close behind.

They found the wizard in the stables, saddling a horse and preparing to leave. His face was streaked with tears and his movements were overly harsh, as if in anger.

Galenwen leaned on the wall close to him. "What are you doing?"

The paint Angrenbor was saddling let out a snort of discomfort as the man roughly dropped the saddle on her. "I'm leaving."

Briar Rose stood beside Galenwen, arms crossed. "Have you given up on him, then? Will you leave Yaonorme to die?"

Angrenbor tightened the girth. "I can't heal him without laying hands on him. Lord Elladan won't let me touch him. Thus, there is nothing I can do." He turned to face the women. "Yaonorme's death is my fault. I cannot live with my brother's blood on my head."

Briar Rose tapped her fingers impatiently on her arm. "But he isn't dead! And it's not your fault, Angrenbor, there is still hope."

He didn't answer. Galenwen asked, "Where will you go then?"

Angrenbor sighed. "I will go to the forest of Mirkwood and live alone under the trees until I am one with them."

Briar Rose drew a sharp breath. "Fading. I've heard of it being done, but never thought it possible that you..."

Angrenbor nodded and turned back to the horse. "Please...please let me go."

Galenwen reached out and laid her hands on his. "Let me go with you." She waited until he met her gaze. "I never thought I could love someone so much until I saw you lying in the healing wing. The thought that I could lose you became unbearable and I swore in my heart that if you ever awoke, I would bind myself to you. I will go where you go, forever."

Angrenbor pulled his hands away and busied himself with the tack, not meeting her eyes. "You don't love me. You only think you do. I am not the man you think I am. A few years alone with me and you would wish for the lights of Imladris or Lothlorien." He looked back at her. "I spent nearly a century abusing the woman who brought me into the world. I know little better. I am afraid that I would harm you."

Galenwen laughed softly and sudden light danced on her fingertips. "Harm me? Good sir, I am the daughter of Olorin, mightiest of the Five Istar. Harm me and I shall zap you within an inch of your life!" She laughed again, and then grew serious. "Angrenbor, I do love you. And I will never leave you. Let me prove it. Let me come."

Angrenbor put his hand to his temple. "I will never be rid of you, will I? You wish to come with me as a friend?"

"More than a friend, if you'll have me."

The man jerked his head at the neighboring stall. "Saddle a horse then. I have a feeling that Lord Elladan wants me here no longer than is necessary."

They rode out of Rivendell at sunset. Briar Rose stood at the stable door, waving forlornly as they vanished into the trees. She bowed her head, and then raised her voice in song.

_May the road rise to meet you,_

_May the wind be ever at your back,_

_May the sun shine warm upon your face_

_And the rain fall soft upon your fields_

_And until we meet again_

_May Iluvatar hold you ever in the palm of his hand._

"They will be safe. For now at least. They have each other, and Greenwood the Great is no longer as dangerous as it once was."

Briar Rose turned at the voice and her face lit up as she recognized the speaker. "Erulissë!"

The woman smiled at her. "Yes, it's me. I've come back, thought not without trouble. But enough. I have heard that the young one, Yaonorme, may not make it."

Briar Rose's face fell. "Yes, he-he's..."

Erulissë nodded. "I see. Come." They went back into the house and Briar Rose led the way to where Yaonorme lay.


	12. Epilogue

Erulissë was able to heal Yaonorme, though it was still a long and painful recovery for him. The very day that Yaonorme regained consciousness, Erulissë disappeared and no one knows where she has gone or whether she will one day turn up again.

Angrenbor and Galenwen, however, never found out that Yaonorme survived. They dwelt together under the trees of Mirkwood for the rest of their days, barely contacting any other sentients.

Briar Rose, after long thought, decided against staying in Rivendell. When Eldarion returned to the White City, she rode with him and remained there in service to the White Tree.

Yaonorme fully recovered from his ordeal, and even gained normal eyesight, with no more need for his troublesome glasses thanks to Erulissë. He stayed on in Imladris, no longer interested in roving and wanting to help his father with the care of the nearly abandoned Rivendell. And that is how I hope to remain until the world is changed.

_Yaonorme Eruedraithon_

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so I wrote this in my Mary Sue phase, and then picked it up later in life like 'fuck it, let's just make this the worst trilogy of Mary Sue LOTR fics the world has ever seen.' So it sucks for a reason. I hope you enjoyed it, because I put a lot of work into this thing and am still stupidly proud of it.


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